Puncture Repair
by MooseOnARoof
Summary: One-shot, song-fic. Wilson comforts House in his own way after a patient dies.


_Don't own the blokes involved. Never have and probably never will._

_**A/N **Song-fic. Wilson comforts House after a patient dies._

_No slash just friendship. Was listening to this song today and thought it kind of describes the House/Wilson thing pretty well. Enjoy :D_

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"Time of death: 18:47." Taub put down the defibrillator paddles and let out a weary sigh.

The team had done all they could but the patient's heart wasn't strong enough to start beating again. House paused for a few seconds before leaving the room in a haste to head back to his office.

He pushed open his glass door and took a seat in his comfortable swivel chair. It had all looked so simple at the beginning. The patient had come in after having a fainting spell. House took the case after she seized for no apparent reason in the waiting room.

_Fever, high white cell count and a cough. _They had all agreed it was an infection of some sort, which had caused the woman to faint. The infection may have caused her to stop eating and drinking enough to cause the fainting spell. They had also all decided that it was the fainting spell that had caused the seizure.

_Put her on broad spectrum antibiotics_. That's what he had told the team. That's what he had always told the team when an infection was the likely candidate. But this time his decision had been fatal, not because she was allergic, House had already checked that out, but because he hadn't truly found out what he was dealing with. And now he would never know. His patient was dead.

House angrily collected his things and headed out of the hospital. He was in no mood to do the paperwork, he would get Foreman to do that. He just wanted to go home and have some stiff drinks to send him into a drunken sleep.

_I leaned on you today  
I regularly hurt but never say_

Wilson arrived at House's office to hand over some books that House had lent him the previous week. He peered through the blinds covering the glass to find no one at the desk. It was odd. House never usually left before nine unless he was in a particular mood or something had gone horribly wrong.

As he opened the glass door, he found the rest of House's team sitting at the table in the other half of the room. Wilson observed their seemingly sombre moods and made the assertion that something had indeed gone horribly wrong. He gently walked through the next glass door. "Hey."

Thirteen turned around and gave Wilson a feeble smile. "House isn't here."

"I noticed." Wilson looked at his feet and dug his heel into the carpet. "What happened?"

"A patient died. He went home." Taub looked up at Wilson from his paperwork "He seemed pretty torn up about it."

Wilson nodded slowly, knowing in his heart he should go and see House. He should go and make sure that House doesn't drink himself into a stupor again. "I'm sorry." Wilson left the team with their morose faces and decided it was best if he went to see his friend.

_I nearly wore the window through  
Where was air sea rescue? _

Wilson let himself into House's apartment with a key he had cut some months before. House was unsure at first and didn't like the idea of someone being able to enter his apartment when he wasn't there. But he had eventually caved after weeks of Wilson insistently pestering him about the subject.

He entered to find House on his couch, a beer bottle in one hand and a sandwich in the other. _At least he was eating_ Wilson thought. Poor eating was the sign of a truly torn up House. Wilson also noticed the hand House had strategically placed down his pants. Frightened and disgusted by the fact he could have just walked in on his friend tossing off, Wilson quickly averted his gaze to the TV screen. It was New Yankee Workshop. This didn't comfort Wilson at all as his knew House was a huge fan of the show. How much of a fan he didn't really know.

"Hey House." Wilson placed his plastic bag full of potato chips onto the side of House's couch.

House turned his head quickly to face Wilson. "Where the hell did you come from?" Wilson flashed his spare key and House nodded. "Oh. Well take a seat then." House moved the remote from the left side of the couch to clear the space for Wilson.

"Thanks." Wilson paused before he took his seat. "You want a coffee?"

House waved his beer bottle in the air. "I'm OK. Might have one later."

Wilson pushed himself from his crouched position and headed into House's kitchen

_I leaned on you today  
I regularly hurt but never say_

Wilson came back from the kitchen with coffee in hand and took his seat next to House. He noticed House's gaze was fixed intently on the TV screen although seeing the glazed look in his friends eye, Wilson wasn't sure if he was paying attention to it or not.

"I heard what happened?"

"What?" House shook his head and snapped out of his daydream.

"Your patient. I heard what happened." Wilson took a slow sip of his coffee. It was no where near sweet enough for his taste. House didn't have enough sugar to cater for it.

House shrugged. "She died. So what?" He took a hasty swig of beer.

"I'm sorry."

House frowned at Wilson's apology. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"I'm just sorry your patient died. It's not an enjoyable thing, I know that better than anyone."

_The cavalry with tea and sympathy  
__You were there  
Puncture repair_

House finished his beer and placed the empty bottle on the coffee table. "Am I allowed that coffee now?"

"Sure." Wilson left his own coffee on the table and made his way back into the kitchen. As he scrambled around House's kitchen preparing the coffee, he turned back to see friend quietly sob on the brown couch. _He mustn't have got his answer_.

There was only one occasion when Wilson had seen House this torn up about losing a patient and that over ten years ago. On that occasion house didn't know what had caused the death of patient, a woman named Esther, until years later. For those years in between House had tortured himself about his apparent inability to see the problem which caused the fatality. Wilson had told him that senseless deaths happen all the time. But House had rebutted saying it was his job to get rid of the senseless part; It was what he did.

Wilson placed House's milky coffee onto the coaster next to his own coffee. "Yours has the blue handle." He then wandered around the back of the couch to get back to his seat.

"I have faith in you House."

House wiped his eyes and looked up to meet Wilson's gaze. "Faith? What? Don't go all religious on me."

Wilson smiled. "Don't worry I'm not. I mean I have faith in your ability. You will get the answer."

"I should have it already. It was a simple infection." House scratched his thinning crown.

"It obviously wasn't if it progressed that fast. There was something else."

"I should have spotted _that _something else."

"We all miss things. Hell, I miss things sometimes. We are not infallible House." Wilson placed his hand on House's shoulder.

House rolled his eyes. "You're not going to lecture me as well are you?"

"No. I'll just sit here and keep you company. If you don't mind of course." Wilson gulped down the last of his drink and placed the empty mug on the floor beside him.

House gave a thankful smile. "That's fine with me."

"Good." Wilson rubbed his hands together. "So what do we have to watch tonight?"

"Oh you're going to love it. A cable channel has an L Word marathon tonight." House picked up the remote and gleefully changed the channel. He knew Wilson hated The L Word, but there was nothing wrong with a bit of harmless torture by television.

_You patched me up and sent me on my way_

_I leaned on you today._

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck in his usual fidgety manner. "That's great." He knew House was doing this deliberately to torture him, but he didn't mind. As long as he had managed to get his best friend out of his gloomy mood he didn't mind one bit.

* * *

**A/N**_ Puncture Repair- Elbow _****_ 2005_

_If you haven't already listened to this band I urge you to do so. They are fantastic. :D_


End file.
